


Dancing Blind

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: due South
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the only way Benton can dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Blind

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_flashfiction/profile)[**ds_flashfiction**](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_flashfiction/) Dancing Challenge.

Fraser has Ray flat on his back. Usually Ray won't allow that—he prefers being on top of Fraser, or on his belly being taken from behind, but Fraser was feeling a little...not impatient, but there's no really good word for what he felt when he woke up to Ray's hand on him and saw, in the low glimmer of light from the street, the expression on Ray's face.

 _He's ready_. The words floated without meaning through Fraser's mind upon awakening, and then thought took a back seat, because Ray's hand was twisting slowly, the heel of his palm excruciatingly warm and hard, riding Fraser's foreskin.

And Fraser, this once, didn't lie back and let Ray have his way with him (force of nature, force of _Ray_ being so powerful, there never seemed to be any point) but instead he moved fast, grabbing the teasing hand and twisting on top of Ray to pin him down.

Ray probably didn't even realize Fraser was awake, because he let out a surprised gasp.

And now Fraser has him on his back, his right hand (his gun hand, his cuff hand) trapped within Fraser's grip just beneath Ray's hip. Fraser's other hand is busy doing unspeakable things (but Fraser can speak them in his mind, whisper of the soft heat his fingers find within Ray's body, the only soft part about him, still open and wet from earlier use) and Ray is squirming and hasn't stopped gasping since Fraser began this madness. It is silent, in the dark, but for that, and the wet sounds of Fraser's mouth on Ray's erection and his fingers sliding, in and out.

Ray twitches in his mouth and leaks fluid. Fraser moves his fingers in the same pattern, pressing around and in and _up_ , and Ray jerks and now moans softly into the quiet air.

Pulling away, Fraser rises and reaches into the night stand. Ray starts to turn over, but Fraser stops him.

"No." It's the first word he's spoken.

Ray settles back again, a nervous shadow.

Fraser reaches under Ray's hips and raises him easily, making it seem effortless, wanting Ray to feel the strength of his arms as he lifts him into position. Then Fraser slides into him, so smoothly the only resistance is the tight grasp of muscle ringing his hardness. Ray's body pulls him in deeper in an involuntary spasm, and he gasps again, but doesn't speak, so Fraser starts to move his hips.

It's _good_ this way, face to face, dancing blind. The only dancing he truly excels at, and he's not sure why Ray ever denied him this. Ray danced with _her_ , and Fraser had to watch, had to bite his cheek, tasting bitterness. But now Ray dances with him, moving with him, and Fraser feels the rhythm without thinking, guided by pleasure. He lowers himself and Ray's legs sprawl wide and loose as Fraser thrusts, again and again, the heat of Ray's panting teasing the hair on his forehead, Ray's hands clawing at Fraser's shoulders.

"I can't. I can't," Ray mutters, sounding desperate, but he can, he does—he arches helplessly, trembling in the arc of Fraser's arms, and he spills hotly between them, making a sound Fraser has never heard before. It pierces the quiet, enters Fraser's ears and rushes down his spine, and he climaxes, holding his breath.

Eventually, reluctantly, he loosens his grip, rising to dispose of the condom and to swipe the corner of the sheet over them both—a careless, wasted effort. They are both damp and sticking together wherever they touch.

Ray's hand slides to Fraser's thigh and squeezes him impatiently. Fraser settles back down. He touches his knuckles to Ray's temple.

"Why—?" Fraser wants to ask, but chokes it off. _Why, at last? Why now?_

Ray shrugs against him and answers anyway, his voice sounding thick and strange. "I woke up. You were here."

"I'm here," Fraser answers stupidly. "I'll always be here." He automatically takes Ray's hand (his right hand, his ring hand) and brings it to his chest to hold it there.

"Yeah." Ray presses close, his forehead bumping against Fraser's.

"I finally figured that out."

...................  
2007.07.10


End file.
